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In the introduction to this story in
The
Collected Stories
of Robert Silverberg: Volume 1: Secret Sharers,
Silverberg states
the following: "I do think the story recaptures
the tone of Son of Man to a
considerable extent, but whether it has the headlong wildness of
that book is not so clear to me." The reader should
obviously judge for himself. I personally think that it is not
really possible to create the same effect with a short story as
with a novel, especially when dealing with something like Son
of Man. I remember reading that book in two afternoons (I
actually had to stop my greedy eyes from reading on after getting
about halfway through, because I could feel I was becoming
overwhelmed with ideas and imagery and did not want to become
desensitized through sheer excess). There was something
definitely cumulative about it, the sense that not only were
things crazy but that they remained crazy and even seemed to get
crazier towards the end. The sustained level of it is one of its
many qualities that really amazes me. That kind of cumulative
energy, or inventive momentum if you will, can't really be
built up in a short story. So even though the style and thematic
approach are similar in this story, the overall feel isn't.
It wouldn't really be fair to either piece to compare this
story to the novel: even though they share the setting, they are
quite distinct pieces. And yet I can't help myself from
making that type of constrast/compare remark.

In Son of Man I immediately noticed that Silverberg made a
deliberate choice not to present the main character as a main character
usually would be in a novel. He doesn't give us his thoughts, his
emotions, his background. In fact, if I remember correctly, we
are given such sparse knowledge about his situation on Earth that
we don't even know what his job was, whether he was married,
what his interests were, etc. In other words, the characteristics
we would usually think of as character-defining. Yet this
strategy works wonderfully. We are given the protagonist's
actions, and these are fully sufficient. Why? Because it is
irrelevant what the specifics of his case are: he is everyone of
us, he represents humanity as a whole, and the discoveries he
makes and experiences he has don't so much affect him
personally as they affect the very humanity inside of him. Thus
there is enough room to explore the new world, the different
types of life-forms, the various landscapes, etc. I think it is,
fundamentally, this lack of character description that
makes the book so unique, so enigmatic, so uncompromising and
pure, in its own way, obviously two highly artistic merits that
exceed mere storytelling or craftmanship.

The situation is different in this short story. The main character
reveals quite a few details about his life, his situation, his job, his
surroundings, etc. before being whisked away by the time-flux. This
automatically reduces the scale of things, making the story less cosmic
and universal in its vision, rather more concrete, more limited. Fair enough:
it is, after all, a short story. We can't expect the same
grandeur, the same pouring sense of wonder, as in a whole novel.
But, concerning character, there is an added difference: in Son
of Man the reader's point of view was the same as the
protagonist's, the human of our times. This is not the case
in this story, since for the first two and a bit pages Oliver van
Noort hasn't even yet arrived into the story's time-frame. The point of
view must therefore be Bhengarn the Traveler's, although there were a
few moments throughout the story when I wasn't sure whose point of view we were
supposed to have. Seeing things from Bhengarn's point of
view is exciting and fascinating in its own way, and possibly
creates a more dynamic, surprising start than if the first scene
had described van Noort's arrival in the new world. And in
those two pages we learn something interesting about how the
world works, namely the cause of the time-fluxes responsible for
sweeping up creatures of different places and times. When the
Traveler engages an Eater who opposes him:

There is a dull droning sound that the Traveler knows is the song
of the time-flux, an unpredictable force that often is liberated at such
moments.

So, now we know, to some degree, how the time-flux currents originate.
Perhaps not only Travelers can elicit them, but other life-forms as well,
we can't rule that out. But this is at least one way in which they form. In the
story, the time-flux that results directly from the
Traveler's actions is responsible for bringing Noort into
the scene. We are given details about Noort's life for about
a page-length, composed largely of phrases linked by a string of
gerunds. It's obvious Silverberg knows a lot about Noort, a
true historic figure. He mentions the fact that he had written
about him at length "years before in a nonfiction book
called The Longest
Voyage." Waste not, want not. Of course, Noort's
background in exploration and so forth make him a suitable
choice... Still, I've always thought a woman's point
of view would be interesting in the world of Son of Man
(no pun intended). Apparently Silverberg did too, for he had
originally intended for the story to deal with a
twentieth-century woman, but then changed this. At one point when
Noort asks the Traveler what he is, Bhengarn responds that he is
a human being of the Traveler sort. Fair enough. But
wouldn't it have been truer to the book and the universe
therein presented to have him answer that he is a "son of
man," or at least for Noort to make some reference, mental
or spoken, to him being a son of man? One detail I really liked
from the original and which Silverberg maintains is that when
Noort tells the Traveler that he speaks his language, the
Traveler replies that it is actually Noort who speaks his
language. A wonderful touch, if you ask me.

Other details I noticed:

In conversation Noort mentions Prester John, a reference which I guess is
historically appropriate. Let's not forget Silverberg's interest in
Prester John: he published The Realm of Prester John in 1972, the same year as The
Longest Voyage.

We also find out that one type of son of man can become another
through a process of transformation (was this the case in the book? I
don't think so, but I wouldn't bet on it either). Thus, it is possible
for a Traveler to become an Awaiter, as happens in the story. This
opens up quite a few possibilities. Perhaps other transformations are
possible as well.

There is no real special significance about this, but I thought I'd
mention it anyway. The scene in the story in which, Noort, in
Traveler form, and Bhengarn climb the Wall of Ice, somehow reminded me of
Kingdoms of the Wall.
Not so much the specifics, since there was no Wall
of Ice in that book, but the feel of it. Maybe one day somebody with a
lot of free time and patience could pour over all of Silverberg's works
and scan for climbing scenes, collect them and add notes to produce
something called Silverberg Climbs the Heights. Just a thought.

Overall, I enjoyed the story a great deal despite the differences,
although I think that if Silverberg wants to return to the world of Son
of Man he would benefit from the scope and possibilities of a novel.
I for one would love to see such a book come to fruition.

Acknowledgements: Robert Silverberg for cause, support, and cooperation; Ken Seamon for graphics; Rodney Walters for books and info; Alvaro Zinos-Amaro for comments and content; and all the fellow fans who have sent encouragement, information, and translations.